


Opening Doors

by Kateera



Category: Red Widow (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Marller, Porn, Wall Sex, hints of feelings, shirt ripping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 13:33:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15195845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kateera/pseuds/Kateera
Summary: It's over and Marta needs to get one last thing off her mind.I needed wall sex to happen and I had to write it myself. You're welcome.





	Opening Doors

**Author's Note:**

> I'm rowing this little Marller canoe!! This is basically all about me being obsessed with Goran Višnjić in all his roles. This role of tough as nails crime lord just CALLS to me...for reasons. Have fun!  
> Beta'd by [Tsuuriki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsuuriki/pseuds/Tsuuriki) who graciously agreed to look this over!  
> All other mistakes are my own.
> 
> Check me out on [tumblr](http://kateera.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/kateera_)

The door closed behind her, a soft click as the latch fell into place. She stared at the opposite wall and took a shaky breath, her mind whirling with how exactly she’d made it out of all of this alive. Between the betrayal of her family and the ending of the partnership with Schiller, a relationship that had anchored her when she felt as if she were drifting away, Marta almost wanted to drop to the floor and cry until she couldn’t breathe. She almost wanted to scream until she had no more air in her lungs. She almost wanted…her skin felt itchy and heat bloomed in her chest.

She turned around and opened the door to find Nicholae Schiller standing in front of her, his hand stretched out towards the doorknob.

“I-” She didn’t have time to finish her sentence.

Nicholae dragged her forward, pressing their bodies together as he stared down into her eyes. She didn’t back down, didn’t struggle, and when he leaned forward, she buried her hands in his hair and dragged his lips onto hers. It felt like release, like a torrent of water breaking through the flood barriers to crash over her and into her. He was intoxicating, dangerous even now, but holding himself back to run his hands over her back as he plundered her mouth with his lips and tongue and teeth. As she broke away to gasp for air, he moved down the line of her neck, dropping small kisses to her skin while he held her in place.

“Nicholae,” she whispered, his name dropping from her lips with a sigh.

He didn’t answer, but he lifted his head and gazed once more into her eyes. A chance, she knew, for her to say this was a bad idea, for her to excuse herself and return home to her children and her life and live without Nicholae Schiller’s reputation hanging over her head. Reaching out, she undid his tie, slipping it from around his neck, and threw it to the ground. He shook with the effort of holding still as she began unbuttoning his shirt. She stopped at four and dragged the soft fabric away from his shoulder, leaning down to lick at the pulse point along his neck.

“Mrs. Walraven.”

She looked up, her lips still hovering above his skin. “Marta, my name is Marta.”

Pulling her head up, his lips collided with hers again and she lost herself in the taste and feel of this man, this deadly, ruthless, menacing man who held her like she wouldn’t break at his touch. Spinning her around, he walked her back into the wall, never breaking their kiss as his teeth nipped at her lips. She braced herself against the wall as he positioned his knee between her legs, rubbing against her sex while his hands pulled at her shirt. The thin fabric ripped as he tore it off and threw it next to his tie.

“You owe me a new shirt,” she gasped as his hands cupped her breasts and squeezed.

“Bill me.” His low voice seemed to vibrate inside her bones and she grabbed his hair and brought his mouth to her throat.

With his thumbs drawing circles over her nipples and his knee providing pressure to her core, Marta wanted to explode as his lips latched onto the sensitive skin below her ear and he bit down. She released his hair and tore open his shirt, the rest of the buttons flying off as she pulled it off of him.

“Feel better?” Nicholae whispered against her throat.

She could hear the smile in his voice and swallowed hard at the rush of pleasure, whimpering as he unhooked her bra. It joined the clothes on the floor and she pressed against his knee as his mouth latched onto a nipple and sucked hard. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but hold on for dear life as Nicholae Schiller placed every ounce of his considerable concentration on her and her body. Her legs shaking and her heart pounding, she slid her hands between them and undid her belt, unzipping her pants and pushing them down. Nicholae released her breasts to trail kisses down her side, helping her push her pants and undies to the floor as he moved lower. Her head hit the wall as his lips moved from her hipbone to the crease of her thigh and when he parted her folds and dragged his tongue along her slit, she cried out his name.

Searching for stability, she wrapped her fingers in the thick strands of his hair while her other hand fell to his shoulder. He pressed in deeper, his tongue flicking across her clit while his hands grasped at her hips to keep her still.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god.” She was babbling, but she couldn’t stop the words and with every stroke of his tongue, she could feel her orgasm dancing through her body.

He moved a hand between her legs and pressed one long finger into her while his lips sucked at her clit and she came with a rush, almost falling onto him with the force of her climax. She couldn’t remember him taking off his trousers, but he must have because before she could draw a proper breath, he lifted her against the wall and entered her in one swift thrust.

“Fuck!” Her scream bounced around the room as he buried himself inside her and then stopped.

She looked at him, his eyes blazing and his tongue licking the last of her juices off his lips. He looked wrecked, shaking and desperate, and she leaned forward to kiss him because she couldn’t face the emotion sparking in those intensely sensual eyes. She kissed hard, pouring her need into him and he responded with a groan. Lifting her higher, Nicholae began a punishing rhythm, each thrust crushing her to the wall before he pulled back. She closed her eyes as he fucked into her, letting the pleasure and pain mix until she couldn’t separate the two and she came again, burying her face in his neck to sink her teeth into his skin while her walls clenched around his cock. He cursed in a language she didn’t know and after a few more thrusts, he joined her over the edge. She could feel each pulse inside her as he stayed buried deep. His mouth moved over her skin, pressing light kisses to her shoulder and neck and ear and then to her lips.

I could get obsessed with his mouth. Marta thought, high on the mix of satisfaction and exhaustion that only good sex can give.

“Alright?” He asked as he drew back.

She could feel wetness running down her legs, but she nodded and brought a hand to his hair. “You?”

He nodded back and his eyes still looked dazed as she pushed his dark hair back from his face. She didn’t know what to say, how to ease back into whatever their relationship was before, this happened.

“There’s a bathroom through there,” he said, pointing to a closed door on the right.

She nodded again and gathered her clothes, her walk a bit unsteady as she made it to the bathroom and shut the door. She could hear him moving around in the other room and a tear escaped before she could think about why she might be crying.

“Stop it,” she told herself, giving her whole body a good shake.

She took a wet washcloth and cleaned up, wiping away the remnants of him from her skin. She looked in the mirror and only saw a faint smattering of red marks down her neck, marks that would be gone by morning.

Maybe then I can pretend it was all a dream.

Marta dressed as best she could in her rumpled pants and ripped shirt and exited the bathroom. Without looking around, she headed for the door, only to have Nicholae stop her before she could leave.

“Leaving without saying goodbye?” The hesitation in his voice made her turn around.

He had on his ripped shirt as well, the sides hanging open to reveal an expanse of skin and muscle. Her hands clenched with the desire to touch again. Instead, she took a step back and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, holding her ripped shirt closed tight around her chest.

“I should go, the kids.”

“Ah, yes, the kids.” He shook his head with a smile and took off his shirt, holding up a hand when she opened her mouth in protest.

She stood still as he slid her arms through each sleeve and tied it under her breasts with a double knot. Looking down, she felt dizzy with something like relief. She felt the brush of his hand against her arm as he stepped back and she followed its path until she was watching him again.

“Take care of yourself,” Nicholae said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the couch.

Marta smirked and nodded. “You do the same.”

“Always.” His arrogance was back in place, but she found it easier to see behind his mask now and what she saw didn’t scare her, at least not as much as it used to.

“Right, okay then.” She walked to the door, feeling his eyes on her the entire time.

She hesitated, her hand on the doorknob and her heart thumping in her chest.

She turned around, walked back to where he still leaned against the couch, and pulled him in for another kiss. Marta drew a perverse pleasure from his surprise, happy to throw the normally collected man off his game. His surprise didn’t last long. His arms wrapped around her and squeezed her tight and she conceded that here, in the circle of his arms, she felt safe. It didn’t make sense and went against everything she’d ever convinced herself was true, but the feeling didn’t go away.

She pulled back and he released her, a half smile on his face as she brought her hands up to rest against his chest. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“You confuse me, Marta Walraven,” he said, sighing as she backed away.

“I feel the same way,” Marta said, hearing the echo of a past conversation. “But I think I’m starting to be okay with that.”

His face lit up with a smile, a full, real smile that sent Marta’s heart racing again. “Okay then.”

She gave his face one more caress and then headed back to the door, feeling lighter and more sure of her path. There was a beginning happening here, in the ending of their professional relationship, and it might be a crazy idea, to get in bed with Nicholae Schiller, but this was her world now and she intended to do more than merely survive.


End file.
